


The White Fang

by Kumikoko



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Octagonia, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Tournaments, Werewolf Fights, Werewolves, alternate universe horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoko/pseuds/Kumikoko
Summary: "If I win just one more championship...I will be free to live my own life." Hope whispers to Erik who knows better then to believe in fairytales. He knows the only way out of the arena is through death.





	The White Fang

**Author's Note:**

> Who else is reading Days of Hana? If you are not, you should be. I know it is a romance story and that can deter a lot of potential readers. However, I insist you read it because the story is unique as hell with diverse characters and concepts. Now, I don't know what the laws consist of in regards to webcomics which is why I am not writing a fanfic about it, although I fucking want to. I read all 85 chapters in 2 days and my head is spinning, needing more chapters. If it's not obvious, it is a modern werewolf manga. Go read it. Seriously. 
> 
> That said, don't mistake this fanfic as a ripoff of Days of Hana. I want to make it very clear that my inspiration for werewolf fighting was entirely my own. It was an original idea I had when I watched The White Fang on Netflix, an animated movie that I also highly recommend. I've loved werewolves for years and when that movie depicted dogfighting, how could I then not think of werewolf fights? That's how it originally happened and then I wrote The Black Fang, which is an Attack on Titan fanfic that...honestly, I had thought was one of my popular fics...but only one person ever commented on it. Ouch. So why am I basically writing the same thing for the Dragon Quest universe? Because I am a glutton for punishment, apparently. 
> 
> Now, obviously, other people have thought of werewolf fights as well because, Days of Hana. I only last night really discovered the web comic. I say this because I don't want people to get the wrong idea. It was of my own thinking, just as it was of her own thinking (gonna assume that Days of Hana author is a woman) Anyways, I had to write this little fic out because of all of the above.
> 
> I would like to receive comments, but, considering my AoT version failed, I don't expect this one to go anywhere either. And because of this, I am currently leaving this fic as open-ended. If I want to, I will write a 2nd chapter. If ya'll want a 2nd chapter, ya can mention it too but I can't promise ya anything right now. It's all gonna depend on inspiration. 
> 
> Oh, all important, I do NOT own Dragon Quest, nor do I own the characters!!!

 

Two men walked along the deserted grassy canyon with the moonlight reflecting off of the their hardened eyes behind. A dilapidated picket sign on the wayside reading Octagonia caught their attention.

“We’re almost there,” A burly man spoke up, walking quicker through the open field. “Hurry up and make these monsters scarce.”

The command thrummed through the other, rippling underneath his skin. He rushed a Hork, tearing him to pieces with his bloodied claws. As soon as the Hork was lying in a pool of purple blood, his limbs began to twitch as the change threatened to overtake him.

“Patience, you’ll fight in form soon,” The gruff man chided, heading straight for the large gates while his wild pet tore the surrounding monsters apart. His howls echoed off of the rocky walls as blood soaked into the ground. “Quit playing around and get your ass over here.”

Immediately the humanoid werewolf followed behind his master, panting tiredly. He had been fighting monsters since they landed in this foreign land. Yet he did not dare to complain. His master, Bristol, Boss of the Vikings guided him into Octagonia.

Octagonia was a town that had been carved into the mountain side. There was no sky—only a daunting ceiling. The air was musty and stale with the scent of body odor. Erik, the werewolf crinkled his nose with disgust. He glanced around with guarded eyes, taking note of other werewolves skulking behind their masters with their heads hung low. They in turn glared at him with a silent promise to meet again in the arena. Erik looked away, gritting his teeth as he clenched his hands into fists.

“Stay quiet and don’t cause trouble,” Bristol commanded without glancing back at Erik. “You’ll win these fights, otherwise you won’t be eating for awhile.”

That went without saying, but Erik still flinched at the thought of another foodless night. He curled his lip up, quietly growling at whoever so much as looked his way as he stood just behind his master who was waiting in line to sign him up for the oncoming fights. Erik did not bother to pay much attention to the process since these tournaments were second nature to him.

Ever since he could remember, Erik had been fighting in werewolf arenas. This was just another night and yet…the trendils of apprehension curled around Erik’s heart as he was ushered deeper underground, to the holding cells. He was shoved into a cell.

The door ‘clinked’ shut. Erik plopped onto the ground and pressed the back of his head against the stone wall. He knew better then to try to escape. The bars of the cell door were made from silver. Touching them would earn him a shock that was more painful then the shock collar that was around his neck.

It held the power of lighting magic and responded any time he defied his master. Every fighting werewolf had one.

“Did you hear?”

Hearing hushed whispers, Erik flicked his wolf ears, straining to hear the other werewolves speak.

“If we win, we really get to go free!”

Erik touched the collar delicately, feeling his heart sink. That rumor was at least fifteen years old and never once had Erik been released into the wild. Through the years, Erik learned that the rumor was insidious—it gave the werewolves the will to fight when they did not want to.

If not for the rumor, Erik never would have fought as hard as he had, especially in the beginning. Every fight he fought with everything he had to win that championship. The first time he had won it, he had expected to be released into the Snifleheim snowfields.

Alas, that was five years ago, and Erik was still caged up in a holding cell. Erik closed his eyes, not having the will to dash the other werewolves’ dreams. It was a dream he still had in the deepest, darkest part of his heart.

_I just have to win one more championship_ …The whispers of hope repeated in his head every time he felt like giving up. His hand fell away from the collar as some combatants were ushered past him. _Or die trying_.

. . .

The full moon outside lent its power to the werewolf combatants. Erik felt its sway course through his body as he heard the cheers of the crowds, eager for a bloody fight. They wore fancy masks to hide their identity.

_Cowards_. Erik thought grudgingly while the silver gates opposite of him rose up. His ears perked up as adrenaline began to pump through his body.

A burly werewolf emerged. Erik glanced around wildly for Bristol. Bristol was no where to be found.

_God damn it, who does he think I can win against_? Erik seethed, growling loudly. The combatant werewolf smirked and calmly began to twitch and jerk as the change overtook him. Erik took a startled step back, feeling his heart pound a little harder. The werewolf’s eyes were fucking green, and he was huge. _No way, no way_ …Was all Erik could think.

“Aaand the fight is on!” An announcer shouted over the roaring crowd. Erik’s ears twitched to the noise of the speaker. “Everyone is eager to know whether The White Fang will win, or if the opposing Black Fang will prevail.”

_Two champions. One winner_. Erik vaguely recalled hearing someone say that earlier in the night, maybe while he was in line with Bristol. _The fight of the century_!!

Oh, it was definitely going to be a fight. Erik could already tell that much because the black furred fucker was already charging at him. Erik gasped and jumped out of the way, narrowly dodging thick claws.

“Does he think he can win without transforming?” The announcer wondered, while the crowd erupted into jeers and cheers.

_I’m trying_! Erik wanted to shout at them as he lithely dodged another meaty paw. _The moon isn’t high enough yet, I can’t absorb enough power to transform_. Erik panicked, running around the battlefield. He was panting already, recalling the tiring monster fights he had obliged to punch out earlier in the night.

“Take this!” Erik yelled, summoning a few rocky mountains to encase the werewolf in. The werewolf was caught in the rocky magic and began to bat at the rocks angrily.

_That will give me a minute to transform_. Erik hoped, panting breathlessly. _God, that took a lot out of me…it’s almost as if I am out of SP_.

The thought was horrifying. A werewolf lacking in SP would be mauled. Erik rubbed sweat away from his forehead and tried to still his shaking nerves. _I can do this, I have enough SP, I just need to_ … _oh shit, he broke free this fast_!? Erik balked, watching the werewolf sprint towards him. His teeth were barred and with one powerful swipe, Erik crashed into the ground, howling with agony.

As soon as he was on the ground, the werewolf pounced onto him and began to slash its claws across his skin. The sheer panic, the surge of adrenaline and the agony forced Erik to transform into a werewolf. He snapped his jaws back at the werewolf and within moments they were rolling around on the ground, fighting for dominance.

Erik won, barely.

His speed and short stature were an asset in werewolf fights. He knew how to be precise and how to target weak points. It was the only way he had survived in tournaments were brawn was plentiful. Erik heard the cheering and jeering of the crowds and limped back to the silver gates, expecting them to open.

They did not.

Instead, the silver gates _behind_ him lifted.

A werewolf entered the arena, his steps heavy.

Erik froze.


End file.
